The Rust of the Week
by KatherineGrace79
Summary: AU. Cedric had heard the saying that Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week but finds his mind in more confusion that he would prefer, which leads him to make a curious move.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; I am not affiliated with J.K Rowling, Warner Brothers or anyone involved with the Harry Potter franchise. I simply borrow the characters for my own pleasure._

**The Rust of the Week**

Cool, crisp air ghosted across Cedric's skin whilst he was still ensconced within the walls of Hogwarts castle, imploring his feet to move quicker across the grey flagstone floor, urging him on and on until he had broken free of the confines of the school and into the fresh air that precipitated the dawn of Sunday morning. He paused at the top of the steps that led down to the great lawn, which was rippling in the breeze as though a great being had knelt down and softly exhaled across it. He breathed in deeply through his nose, eyes slowly closing as he stood there, the sun only just beginning to peak across the horizon, sending colours of pink and orange scattering across the lightening sky.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cloak and hunched his broad shoulders against the breeze, which was stronger than he had first thought, as he walked across the lawn, his feet carrying him to the edge of the Black Lake where he stilled. The dark water lapped against the shore, covering the uneven stones and smooth pebbles that lay there with its watery caress, and he looked out across the lake, watching as the Durmstrang flag, which flew proud and high on the enchanted vessel, trembled in the breeze, pulling out from its mast as though attempting to break free. A small frown marred his forehead as he gazed out at the magnificent vessel, shadowed in the weak light of the breaking dawn, wondering whether Krum was ready for the Third Task that was only a mere fortnight away. He sighed and looked down at his feet, digging at the stones and pebbles with his foot in order to distract himself from the anxiety that gripped at his stomach with a desperate fervour every time he thought about the third and final task of the tournament.

He had been a fool to put his name into the Goblet of Fire. He knew that now.

A small, wry smile pulled at his lips as he stared harder at the ground and the water lapping against it, absently kicking at a stone and watching as it skittered across the shore before disappearing under the surface of the water. At the time his head had been filled with all sorts of wondrous notions that had propelled him to write his name on a simple scrap of parchment and drop it triumphantly into the flames of the Goblet; notions that he know recognised as foolish.

The Triwizard Tournament was dangerous and a small part of him was angry with the Headmaster for agreeing to allow Hogwarts to be a part of it and to host it. He could blame no one for his own eagerness to participate though. He had been so eager to show to Hogwarts that someone from Hufflepuff House, long since thought to be the House where duffers were sorted, could be just as brave as a Gryffindor, as intelligent as a Ravenclaw and as cunning as a Slytherin. In his blind haste however, he had conveniently ignored the fact that people had died before in the competition, witches and wizards of far greater talent than he. The warning sign that this tournament was not as it seemed should have registered with the addition of the fourth champion.

Another sigh fled from his throat as his mind turned to Rose Potter, as it had steadily been more inclined to ever since she had spelled open his satchel to bluntly inform him about the dragons for the First Task. He had never been that physically close to the younger Gryffindor before, not even when they were facing off on the Quidditch pitch, and it had surprised him to realise that she was actually rather pretty. Not pretty in the way that Cho Chang was pretty but there was something different about her that other witches lacked and only she had. It had taken seeing her in action during the First Task to put his finger on the difference. She was powerful and she was sure of herself in that power and that self-confidence made her appear prettier. It highlighted her bright green eyes that were shaped like smooth almonds, her black hair that never seemed to lie flat on her head and the freckles that danced across her nose from being outside so often.

He scowled and pursed his lips, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Rose was like no one he had ever met before and it disconcerted him. He had known of her his entire life; he didn't know anyone who hadn't. He recalled seeing her for the first time when she was eleven years old, arriving at Hogwarts for the first time, like everyone else in the Great Hall at the time, he had strained to catch a glimpse of the tiny first-year before she was consumed by a great mass of red and gold. He, like everyone else, had been amazed by her natural abilities on a broomstick and had heard of her adventures throughout the years. He had never spoken to her though until that day in the corridor months earlier.

"The first task…it's dragons…they've got one for each of us…"

When questioned over why she had told him, she had just stared at him and said quite assuredly that he would have done the same for her. He hadn't been so sure. He had been angry that she had somehow tricked the Goblet of Fire into accepting her name and, at the time, he had been certain that he would have let her walk into the stadium to face a dragon without forewarning. He felt ashamed now that he thought of it but he had repaid her and he knew that she had taken his advice in going to the prefects' bathroom and it eased his conscious somewhat but every single step of the way during the tournament, she had bested him. She had proved herself to be the better person and the worst thing about it all was that she did it unconsciously. It was just the person she was.

Tell her competitor about the First Task and lose the advantage? _Of course._

Remain behind to ensure that all of the hostages were rescued even though it meant coming last, well outside of the hour? _Don't be stupid, of course._

He shook his head, blood hair flipping in the breeze, the sun stretching its long arms out over the ground, filtering through the trees of the Forbidden Forest and warming him slightly. His eyes brushed over the line of the forest and he almost laughed, he might have done had he not felt so ill, when he saw the object of his thoughts emerge from the darkened tree lines, escorted by a centaur. He unconsciously stepped forward, excitement fluttering in his stomach at seeing a centaur for the first time, and he sank ankle deep into the frigid water and he leapt back with a curse, shaking the water from his foot, attracting the attention of both Rose and the centaur. Even across the distance, he could see her eyes resting on him and he was glad that she wasn't any closer to witness his blush.

It would be rude to walk away from the lake as she had seen him so he stayed where he was, watching as she said her goodbyes to the centaur, bowing to him before wrapping her cloak tighter around her slender body and walking towards him. She didn't hurry, merely walked at her usual pace, and by the time that she was within shouting distance, his mouth was dry and he felt a little dizzy. She eventually smiled at him, green eyes sparkling, white teeth flashing at him, her cheeks pink from the cold, hands tucked beneath her armpits.

"Cedric." Rose greeted, voice deceptively soft and gentle, carrying on the breeze towards him, warmth radiating from her as she smiled. "Rather early to be up on a Sunday, isn't it?"

"You're up." Cedric pointed out although he thought he sounded a little petulant, which was not at all how he wanted to come across and he quickly wondered how he could rectify the situation when she laughed, a warm sound that caused heat to roll down his spine.

"I haven't actually been to bed yet." She admitted, leaning forwards slightly to impart that secret and he noticed that she did look a little tired and her hair was in more disarray than normal but, framed by the early morning light, he had never seen anyone so beautiful. "The centaurs needed…"

She trailed off and pressed her lips together before presenting him with a smile and he realised that she had forgotten who he was for a moment and had been about to tell him something she shouldn't. Instead, she looked uncomfortable and drew her bottom lip between her teeth and he watched the motion with fascination.

"Well," Rose cleared her throat, "if you'll excuse me, I should really get some sleep. Have a good day, Cedric."

She started to turn from him and he was suddenly filled with panic at her leaving. He stepped forward, hands reaching out and he watched as she reacted, hand moving towards her wand. He was sure the move was out of instinct rather than fear at his close presence and he curled his fingers around her slender shoulders, warm and soft, before he leant down, his hair drooping between them and brushing at her forehead. He could see her eyes, wide and comprehending, before he tilted his head slightly to the side to avoid banging her nose and he pressed his lips lightly against hers.

She was very warm and she smelt of the outdoors with wood and earth and a plethora of flowers mingling together to form an intoxicating fragrance. She was stiff and surprised under his touch. He was about to pull back, ready to stutter his apologies, when he felt her lips move a mere fraction beneath his and his heart leapt for joy in his chest. He released her slowly, certain he was blushing quite fiercely, her own cheeks stained red, a confused but pleased look on her face. He wanted to say something, anything, but words failed him and instead, he smiled at her, a crooked, dopey smile and he saw amusement leap in her eyes before she stepped back, touching her fingers to her lips curiously.

"I'll see you soon." Rose said, taking another step back, nearly tripping before spinning around and walking back up towards the castle.

Cedric watched her all the way, incomprehensibly pleased that she didn't lower her hands from her lips all the way. He turned back to look out over the lake, feeling significantly better than he had when he had woken up in need of fresh air. Perhaps when the tournament was over, perhaps Rose might like to get a Butterbeer with him.

The prospect filled his steps with a hopeful bounce as he too made his way back.

_**Fin**_**.**

_Author's Note: This is a one-shot from a story that I am currently building in my head about Rose Potter. The story will be a Rose/Snape pairing and wildly AU. I put this story out into the ether that is to see what reader's reactions would be to Rose. Admittedly, I went a bit off tangent and it is from Cedric's point of view rather than Rose's but I would love to hear feedback about this piece and whether anyone is interested in reading a longer story about Rose Potter._


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